Chapter 12 - Alik
ALIK
She tastes of salt. And anger, and something so much more complex I can’t stop myself from pulling her closer. From licking the seam of her lips.
Marya—Sera?—stiffens at the contact. I expect her to pull away.
I definitely don’t expect her to return the favor, but that’s exactly what she does. And more.
Moaning softly, she kisses me harder, her lips parting, each sweep of her tongue a hit of dopamine to my system.
Kissing this woman is a bad idea. Criminally bad.
Terminally bad. Bad in all the ways bad.
But when she scrambles onto my lap, thighs spread around my hips, I forget all the reasons why I’m not supposed to be doing it and give in to the one reason I should: kissing her is absolutely fucking amazing.
The beast in my chest has been prowling non-stop for days, every encounter, every thought about this maddening woman making it—me—even more restless.
I went damn near ballistic when I thought someone had broken in here and hurt her.
I was blindsided—impressed and so fucking turned on—when she threatened to shoot me with my own gun.
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut when she told me that being locked in her room was triggering night terrors.
And I violated every traffic law imaginable getting back here when I saw her running herself ragged on the video feed.
This woman, no matter her name, is infuriating. And sexy. And, in this sliver of time, mine.
Hungry, I coax her lips open wider, seeking out her tongue. She welcomes me, drags me deeper, dueling for supremacy as the kiss gets hotter, more intense.
She’s pressed against me tits to hip, and the full-body contact is shredding any sense of self-preservation. She nips my lower lip. I feel the groan building in my chest, my hands mapping her back. The curve of her hips, the globes of her perfect ass.
One squeeze and she gasps my name, answering a craving I didn’t even know I had.
Pulse like a runaway train, I draw back until our lips are barely touching. Use my grip to calm the erratic rhythm of her hips. Wait for her dazed eyes to meet mine. “Sera?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
One name, one word, and suddenly I want her more. I find her thick ponytail and wrap it around one hand. Angle her mouth until it is a hairsbreadth from mine. “Is this what you want, Sera?”
Green eyes glow back at me. Hypnotic, curious. Powerful. “No, Alik. I want more.”
She digs her nails into my shoulders. My heart jackknifes, the floodgates crashing open, every lustful thought I’ve had about her breaking free.
I don’t think, I just lever up on my knees and tip forward until Sera is on the ground beneath me, her arms around my neck, her legs still wrapped around my waist.
Propped on my knees, I catch my weight on one hand and use my grip in her hair to angle her face exactly as I want it.
Chin up, mouth ripe and ready for me. A slide of lips, a stroke of tongue, it’s a battle, a give and take.
Me tasting every inch I can reach. Her welcoming me and opening for me so perfectly my dick starts to beg for attention.
“You taste so fucking good. Such a good girl.” I say the words without thought, so caught up in her, but the moment they pass my lips, Sera’s eyes flare. Her pupils dilate, her pulse bucks wildly in the delicate hollow of her throat.
“You like that, don’t you?” Fuck, I know I do. “You like being my good girl.”
Sera tips her head back on a groan, her eyes drifting closed as she practically melts beneath me. She’s my own personal siren, temptation and satisfaction and longing captured in the curl of her lips.
I scrape my teeth against the line of her jaw.
Her smile turns into a gasp.
I lick a line down her throat, lapping up the sweat and tears and lust coating her skin.
She writhes beneath me, midnight black hairs pulling against my fist.
I find the place where her neck meets her shoulder and kiss it, praise it, with my lips and tongue and don’t stop until her hips are rocking against my groin, her sneakers digging into the small of my back. “Fuck me, you’re beautiful.”
Sera’s skin is flushed, her eyes brilliant as she looks up at me from a tangle of hair and shallow breaths.
I drop my mouth to hers as she arches beneath me, her body an undulating wave of need. Tongues tangling, I free my hand from my hair and trail it across her shoulder and down to her chest.
I skim the swell of one breast and the sound Sera makes is pure want.
I swipe my thumb across her hard nipple and practically lose my mind when her core jerks against my achingly hard cock.
She’s soft yet so strong, pliant yet so demanding. A woman I have no business touching and one I know I can become addicted to.
The thought skids across what’s left of my brain.
Sera’s hands are in my hair, her mouth ravenous as she drags my lips back to hers. In the span of minutes, she’s wrapped me in a sensation that’s entirely foreign.
Not just lust, but longing.
Not just urgent, immediate need, but desire reframed by limitless appetite. Like I already know that one taste isn’t enough.
Touching Sera one time will never be enough.
With the blood pounding in my veins and my cock starting to leak, I break away. I’m still touching her breast, my fingers spanning across her chest, her nipple hard and taunting beneath my palm.
I want it in my mouth. Fuck. I want to suck her tits until she’s screaming my name, begging me to make her come.
More than that. Begging me to come inside her.
It’s a need stronger than I’ve ever felt, one that’s scrambling languages and thoughts, present and future, until I can’t think, let alone speak.
The longer I hover above her, stupefied, the less pliant Sera becomes. I watch in real time as the haze of desire fades, our current position making the blood drain from her face.
Muscles locked, eyes wide, Sera stares up at me. “Alik—what is it? Why did you stop?”
Her defenses are down, her true self on display, and that’s when I realize some facts I should’ve paid closer attention to before I shoved my tongue down her throat and began fantasizing about dry humping her to an orgasm on my hard gym floor.
One: Sera is young. Like, should still be in college young. At least ten years younger than me, maybe more.
Two: There is a solid chance she’s not very experienced when it comes to sex. Rocco is a greedy bastard and the less experienced the woman, the higher her perceived market value. The fucker specializes in virgins; it isn’t a huge leap to think that Sera is one.
Three: We’re not supposed to be together.
Not for one hour, one night, one week. It’s illogical, no matter how I look at it.
A road we can’t go down. As soon as I’ve achieved what I need to in Chicago, I’m gone.
Sera will be too, off to her own life. The simpler it is for us to part ways, the better.
And nothing about fucking has ever made anything in this world simpler.
Sera’s hands drop from my hair, her expression shuttering. “Alik—?”
I unwrap her legs from my waist, stand up. “This shouldn’t have happened.”
“What? But—”
I turn, suddenly intent on hiding my body’s reaction to her.
I don’t need her watching me claw myself back from the brink of no-return.
Or seeing the raging erection tenting out my jeans.
Fuck. “You should get some rest. You need it after…” I wave at the treadmill, a piss-poor attempt to redirect our attention away from what we were about to do.
“I need rest?!” Her confusion balloons into anger. Sera glares as she pushes to her feet. “You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly.” I’m already running away, smothering whatever wild emotions drove me to kiss her in the first place. I spare her a hard glance over my shoulder. “Sleep and eat, Sera. No more running until the doctor clears it. I’ll know if you do. I’m watching.”
She’s still sputtering when I leave the room. I can hear her cursing me when I slam my office door behind me. Every part of me feels wired to explode. I grab the vodka from my desk drawer, downing several shots straight from the bottle.
I cut off three of Rocco’s toes this morning.
I almost killed myself racing my bike to the apartment when I checked my phone and saw what Sera was up to on the video feed.
I’m now downing a quarter bottle of vodka without stopping for breath.
Blood. Speed. Alcohol. None of them are coming close to stifling the need pounding in every pore of my skin.
I slam the bottle onto the desk with a curse. My stomach nosedives when the nearby picture frame and vase of lilacs shake. I steady the frame, my head pounding as I carefully lay it face down among the scattered petals, hiding from the twisted emotions that Rina’s face always drags to the surface.
I can’t look at her. Not now.
Not when I can still taste Sera. Still feel her skin against mine. Still hear her moans cascading through me, arrowing straight to my dick.
Blyad! Fuck. I cut across the room, getting as far away from my desk as possible, every inch of me shaking. I need to purge this—her—from my system before I do something that can’t be undone. Before I go to Sera’s room and strip her naked and—
One hand braced on the wall, I’m tearing open my fly before I can finish the thought.
Have my cock in my hand an instant later, closing my eyes on a filthy groan.
I’m so hard, the head swollen and coated in precome.
One well-practiced swipe and I’m dragging my own slickness down my shaft, my balls already tightening at the promise of release.
God, she looked gorgeous beneath me. Her body, already reclaiming its strength, was temptation personified in those tiny fucking gym clothes. I let my brain go where it’s dying to, picturing pulling the bra over her head, revealing her breasts, small and pert and perfect.
Stroking to the base of my cock, I imagine pulling one of those perfect breasts into my mouth, curling my tongue around the nipple. How her back will arch, how her body will shake as I suck and bite until she’s begging me to stop.
I bite my lip on another groan, thrusting into my hand, choking the head as another drop of precome leaks out.
Down, down, down my imagination goes, to her stomach, her legs, her sweet, hot pussy covered by those tiny shorts. Holy shit, how I wanted to rip them off with my teeth, to drag my nose across the crease of her thighs and bury my mouth in her wetness.
My mouth waters just picturing it. My head lolls back on my neck, my shoulders bunching as I stroke harder.
She’d be so wet for me. Wet, willing, legs spread wide. The need to know what she smells like there, tastes like, is a bullet to my restraint. The open throttle that sends my desire into overdrive.
I am well and truly fucking my hand now, the sound of my palm against slick skin filling the room.
I’m breathing too hard, too fast. Never, never has getting off felt like this.
Probably because I’ve never let myself picture Sera while doing it.
No matter how restless I’ve become over the past few weeks, no matter how many times I’ve sought release, I’ve forbidden myself from thinking of her this way.
Of using her like this. But our kiss changed everything.
Her response changed everything. The signal I didn’t know I was waiting for, the green light that’s driven my growing protectiveness toward her into downright obsession.
I want to see her mouth spread wide around my cock. Want to see my cum dripping out from between her lips.
My thighs start to tremble, my hand moving faster and faster.
I want to bury my face in her pussy, licking her, tonguing her until she’s coming so long, so hard that I won’t be able to breathe in anything but her for days.
Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Fuck. My cock throbs in my hand. I’m so close to coming. The blood is pounding in my ears, my vision shot as I drive my hips at a relentless pace, one matched by the downstroke of my fist.
I’m teetering on the edge, my balls so tight I swear they’re going to explode.
Swear that it will never feel as good as sinking into Sera will. How she’ll gasp when I first enter her. How her pussy will be hot and wet and grip me so tight I’ll never want to leave. How she’ll take me as I thrust into her, over and over and over.
What a good girl she’ll be. Such a fucking good girl.
The Sera in my mind flushes at the praise, her pulse kicking, her pussy squeezing.
My little Marya loves being called a good girl.
I can barely stand it anymore. The flames licking across my limbs as I picture her beneath me, practically feel her mouth against mine. Smell her skin, pleasure and sweat mixing into a perfume all her own.
“Fuck, Sera.” I groan, eyes screwed so tight, the woman in my mind exploding, soaking me with her release as my whole body jerks.
Pleasure rockets up my spine as I throttle my cock, my orgasm hitting me like a boulder to the head.
Jet after jet of cum paints my hand, my clothes, the wall in front of me.
I’m gasping before it’s over, the intensity of it so overwhelming I can barely stay standing. I lean against the wall, palm wet, idly stroking myself as I wait for my vision to come back online. Wait for the afterglow to kick in.
But that’s the thing about doing it solo.
No matter how good it feels in the moment, no matter how vivid the fantasy, it all turns anemic when reality sets in.
Some part of me is satisfied, sure. I can walk around without an embarrassing hard-on, at least. But no sooner do I wipe my hand clean than the longing to see Sera comes back with a vengeance.
The scent of her skin drugging me all over again.
I’m in my post-orgasmic muddle when I hear something outside the room. A quick glance tells me that my office door isn’t completely closed. It must’ve bounced back open when I slammed it, leaving a gap about an inch wide.
A gap just large enough for me to see the retreating form of a woman, midnight black hair streaming out behind her as she runs away.